


Talent Show

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Talent Shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 22:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: It was during acts like "Kevin G. and the Power of Three" that you loved being stage manager.





	Talent Show

You surveyed the tight groups of teens. “Five minutes ‘til curtain.”

“Thank you, five,” chorused the few who had experience with shows. Theatre kids, mostly, though some of them had picked it up from past talent shows. 

You knew from experience that it was hard to have a talent show run smoothly. There were always people who wanted more time to get ready, and there were kids who didn’t think that they needed to prepare at all. Some acts had been preparing for months, while others had still been ironing out the details at the rehearsals earlier in the week. As stage manager, the best you could hope for was managing the chaos.

In the wings, you put on your headset. The school was too cheap to get a wireless set, so your movement was restricted to a few feet of the backstage. The downside was that you couldn’t be everywhere at once, no matter how much you desired it. The upside was that whenever Kevin wanted to talk to you, you were easy to find.

“Tell the booth to pad my mic,” he whispered into your ear, “‘cause my mic drop is gonna be brutal.”

You tried to sound harsh, but you saw his eyes flicker to the faint uptick of your lips. “You shouldn’t be back here, Kevin. You don’t go on for a half hour, yet.”

“Even if I’m here to chill with you?”

“You could do that literally any time, Kev. You just want to get out of the choir room,” you said. Of course, you would much rather have him with you than in there. You would like having Kevin with you pretty much anywhere.

His voice dipped, smile slipping a little. “Regina is telling people I smell like egg rolls. I’m not even Chinese.”

You softened a little. “Regina’s the worst.”

“Preach.” He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “She’s just bitter. Her boobs are getting bigger, which is chill, but so is everything else.”

You tried to smile, but you could only hope that it didn’t look as false as it looked. Regina was a terrible person, but a gorgeous one. For every insult to her weight gain, there was a lustful look at her breasts or her butt. You would never be able to look like her. If you gained weight, people would call you fat. If you lost weight, you would be a stick, not an model.

Maybe Kevin noticed your discomfort, since he threw a hearty arm around your shoulders. You were quick to adjust the headset so the wire wouldn’t yank your head down. “You, on the other hand, have the bod and the personality.”

You were thankful for the dark backstage. Maybe he couldn’t see the way you brightened. “You can stay back here -”

“”I knew you needed a Kevin G. fix,” he said smugly.

“But you have to be quiet!” The person running the lights in the booth lowered the house lights, sending a hush over the aud. The talent show began, and you directed the acts and running crew with a cheerful Kevin shadowing you.

 

 

A freshman girl sang a song by Adele, and Kevin was getting restless. “Wanna see my rap?”

“I heard it during the rehearsal,” you whispered absently. Next was a small magic act, so you would have to get the piano off the stage -

“We have a different one,” he said.

Your head whipped to look at him, tugging on the headset cord. You winced, but gaped at him. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nah. We need to work the crowd. Impress the ladies. The boys and I have to do better than a school rap.”

You battled excitement and anger. As the stage manager, it was unacceptable. Everything had been planned perfectly, and though you knew it wouldn’t go according to plan, it was your job to try to keep it close. As Y/N, as Kevin’s friend (only his friend, painful though it may have been), seeing the boys rap the way they liked to would be a treat.

He pulled a paper out of his pocket. “Wanna see?”

You snatched it. “Yes!” You read it over. It was pretty long; all about girls and butts and basic rapper things. You were grinning by the end. “Dude, there’s no way Duvall will let you do this.”

“Duvall won’t have the balls to stop us,” he said dismissively. “The real question is - will you?”

You pretended to think about it. You could see the spotlights glittering it his eyes. He was wearing those ridiculously baggy pants, which made you want to laugh, but the way his sunglasses were perched precariously on his head just made you want to melt. You reached up to adjust the lopsided lenses, and he leaned down to help you.

“No,” you sighed. “Make some art, M.C.. Even if you only get 5 seconds of stage time.”

He smiled. “Y/N - the ultimate GOAT.”

You were laughing when the other two in the “Power of Three” came up to watch the act before theirs. Tyler and Marwan argued about whether something glow-y would have improved it, like light sabers. 

“If they want the stage to be dark, light sabers would make it way cooler,” Tyler insisted.

Marwan rolled his eyes. “They’re transformers. There aren’t any light sabers that big.”

They bickered back and forth, and the tension in your shoulders built the entire time. They weren’t being loud. You knew the crowd couldn’t hear. Even so, a part of you wanted to hush them.

Kevin must have noticed, because he gently slugged the two. “Transformers don’t need light sabers, but they could definitely get some that were big enough if they put their minds to it. Shut up.”

You brushed your fingers against his - not flirtatiously, just to acknowledge that you knew what he was doing. When you moved to pull away, his fingertips hooked around yours. You looked at him, surprised, but Duvall was announcing the end of the act. 

Kevin pulled away to put on his sunglasses. After a second of consideration, he put them on upside down. You were grinning when the boys ran out on stage.

 

 

You had been right. The rap only lasted for about four seconds before it was shut down, but they were four glorious seconds. You were closing the curtain when they rushed back into the wings, bemused smiles on each face.

“Believe me,” you said dryly. “The ladies have seen everything they needed to. They’ll be swarming after the show.”

You motioned for them to leave the backstage area. You had already been breaking the rules by letting Kevin stay before his act. Letting him stay after his act would be completely out of line. They were supposed to be in the choir room until the end of Act One, then go to sit in the audience for the rest of the show.

Tyler and Marwan left immediately, but Kevin hung back. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“When you said that we could hang anytime, did you mean it?” He pulled off the sunglasses, revealing wide, hopeful eyes.

“Definitely,” you said. You wished you had a clipboard or something, anything that would let you look away from him. Instead you stood there, empty handed but heart very full, and waited for him to say something.

“We should do that,” he said. You grinned while he searched for words. “Tonight, or over break.”

“Tonight,” you agreed. “We could get ice cream, or got to a movie.”

He brightened. “Awesome. That’s really -” he sobered a little, winking at you while he collected himself. “It’ll be lit. I told you the rap would work.”

He walked back into the choir room, waving his cell phone at you to signal that he would text you the plans. You threw yourself into the show, trying not to let yourself get distracted by your date after the show. You got pretty lucky. After the spectacle the Plastics made, nobody attributed your goofy grin or need to check your phone to the M.C. you knew was waiting for you.


End file.
